


Resist

by The_Golden_Trashcan_TM



Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: also virgil and logan are a pre-established couple, but like, but there's just a lot happening, i guess this counts as angst, it was worth the hand cramping, it's a long one lads, so it's whatever, took me a few hours to do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 08:11:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19205380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Golden_Trashcan_TM/pseuds/The_Golden_Trashcan_TM
Summary: Prompt: Am I The Villain (with Patton)TW: trauma, yelling, deceit (he’s not in it much but he’s still there), mutilation (mostly talk), anything else just shoot me an ask





	Resist

Patton wasn’t sure there were many positive things Master Roman had said about him. There was, of course, the odd day when he was feeling lenient with his affection. And Roman was always giving him praise. But as for honest to goodness, heartfelt positive compliments? Those were few and far in between.

However! Patton was pretty sure Master Roman always meant it when he called him a hard worker. That was something Patton had always been and prided himself in. He was always there when it mattered most. In fact, that was just what he had been saying before giving him his mission for the day.

“Go to the other side of the wall,” Master Roman was saying, the rooftop breeze swaying his hair. Somehow, he never managed to look anything but regal. “Bring me any intelligence you can gather in a day. Do not disappoint me.”

“As you wish, Master.” Patton bowed deeply before turning on heel, the wings on his shoes springing out he leapt off the building, soaring through the air.

It always amazed him, every time he did it, just how beautiful the city was. Almost entirely made of large, grand buildings and statues. Gold and silver and platinum lined each structure gracefully and seemed to stretch on for forever. Patton would never get tired of looking at the city from above. There was something about a bird’s eye view that made it so much more to him. Seeing everything that he had helped build was awe inspiring every day.

Master Roman had a vision for the world to be beautiful. He was very set in his way and standards for what he considered beauty. Patton was just lucky enough to fit the bill.

Patton sighed, his good mood waning as he approached the Wall. Built nearly as tall as Master Roman’s Command Tower, the High Wall kept out all of the Unwanted. The Unwanted were, well, unwanted. They were unwanted by unwanted by society, unwanted by themselves, and most importantly, unwanted by Master Roman.

He braced himself as he set down on the Wall, taking in a deep breath of filtered air before slowly letting it out. The other side of the Wall was…sub-par to say the least. Everything was low and flat to the group. Houses, unlike in the Command, were squat little shacks that looks like they’d be knocked over with gentle breeze. The buildings here barely hit two-stories, and everything was drab and grey. Patton could hardly bare the barren and dying fields the Unwanted called home, but if Master Roman wishes it, then he would endure it. Besides, it wasn’t all bad.

With one final breath, he stepped over the edge, sliding down the smooth white structure before letting the wings of his shoes come out as neared the bottom. Dust was kicked up as he landed, and Patton let out a meek cough. No matter how many times he had to come out here, he was never used to the low quality of air.

As always, like a prophet, Virgil was standing there, ready to greet him. Even when Patton had first started to come out here for Master Roman, Virgil had been there at the Wall, greeting him and sequestering him away to a quiet place. Even though Patton had never met him and couldn’t be sure of his trustworthiness, he was sure that he could take care of himself. As gentle as he tried to be, he was more than capable of being tough.

“Welcome back,” Virgil signed, a small smirk on his face. As always Patton worked not to stare at the scars on his neck. Near as he could figure, something had attacked Virgil when he was younger causing him to become mute. That was one of the things that they silently agreed on: no personal questions. “Have a nice trip down?”

“You leave my shoes alone.” For whatever reason, Virgil liked to rag on his flying shoes. It wasn’t his fault he could fly on his own; only a few people were born with magick in their blood and sadly he wasn’t one of them.

Together they moved out of the open field surrounding the houses close the wall, moving toward the main street, then moving quickly into the closest house. He knew as well as anyone it was better he not be seen by most of the residents. It was best if he didn’t have to fight them—especially so early into his trip here. Even if he were to change out of his nice clothes or hide his clean hair, there was still something inherent about him that would let anyone know he was from the Command.

“So, how have you and the hubby been?”

“Logan?” He smiled again, shutting the curtains and plopping down at the kitchen table, kicking out a chair for him. “He’s fine. Still not your biggest fan.”

“But are you even a fan?”

Patton knew that he could, he would laugh. “Not particularly.”

“But you put up with me anyway,” Patton sang, furiously batting his eyes. Virgil rolled his, leaning back in his chair. “So, what’s new here?”

“You always ask the same question and I give you the same answer: nothing. It’s the same shitty hovel as always.”

“And you always know that that’s not at all what I mean.”

“Actually, there was something I wanted to tell you.” He stopped for a second, looking out the window. There was a shuffling sound coming from the door. “Watch out for Logan—” The door slammed open and Logan was silhouetted by the for just a moment. “—he’s a little pissy with you.” And in that moment, Logan rushed from the door, faster than Patton thought he could possibly move, and punched him out of his chair.

The impact sent him flying across the room and crashing into wall, shaking the entire house. Logan was there, above him, his glasses askew from the punch, gripping his shirt and pulling him up. “You have some nerve showing your face here.” He said through gritted teeth.

“Logan,” Patton kept his voice calm and level as he spoke. “Please let go of my shirt.”

“Not until you tell me what the hell that asshole you call a leader is doing to us.”

“I don’t know what you mean. Let go of my shirt.” In his peripherals, Patton could see Virgil get up from the table and close the door, the natural light falling away.

After a moment, Logan let go him, stomping away to the other side of the small house. “Your stupid, ignorant, self-involved, narcissistic sociopathic dipshit of a leader has started to send his armies here. It’s so subtle that most people wouldn’t notice, but I’m sure you’d recognize the little government peons if you saw them, wouldn’t you?”

With a flick of his hand, colorful smoke began to tumble out from his palm forming images—images of people he recognized. There was Dee, the creepy man in charge of tactics. There was Joan, Roman’s main source of entertainment, though Patton wasn’t quite sure what they did in terms of the army. And, of course, there were dozen move faces he recognized from the militia even if he couldn’t put names to faces. Weirder still, they weren’t in uniform. They were disguised in baggy, grey-brown clothing, dirt smeared and a little ragged.  

“I—I don’t—”

Logan clenched his fist, the smoke disappearing with it. “You don’t what? Understand? Then let me spell it out clearly for you: Roman is planning on wiping us out.  _Again_.”

“I—I—”

Virgil clapped drawing both of their attention. Without Patton even noticing, he’d moved from the door to the table again, sitting with his legs swinging. “Patton, you’ve never personally done anything to hurt us, but we won’t hesitate to fight you if need be. I know you worship the ground Roman walks on but understand that the reason I can’t speak is directly because of him.”

“What do you mean?” Patton was reeling. There was so much to take in from just that one image. This shouldn’t have been happening. There was no reason for Master Roman to do something like this.

Logan started pacing, hands opening and closing into fists as he walked. “When Virgil was younger—when we were  _children_ —Roman himself came down from his tower to slaughter us himself. Virgil was lucky, I supposed. He was only mutilated.”

“No, I-I don’t believe you.” His voice was shaking as he looked up at Logan. He was a lot of things, but for as long as Patton had known Logan, he’d never been a liar and was always offended when called one. And even now, the anger in his voice…there was no way he was faking it.

“Take off those rose colors glasses and see the world for what it is, you privileged jackass.”

Virgil hopped off the table, placing a gentle hand on Logan’s shoulder. He turned toward Patton, looking a little sad. “It’d be best if you left. We can’t risk a bigger fight breaking out here, so close to the Wall.”

Patton didn’t need to be told twice. He scrambled to his feet and was flying the second he got out of the door. Normally he walked away from Virgil and Logan’s place and closer to the wall before taking off, but this time—this time he needed to go. He needed to get as far away as possible from them and this place.

Even though he knew that Virgil and Logan weren’t fond of Master Roman, it was never explicitly stated. Never said in their many friendly debates about the Wall and Command because they knew Patton loved his home and his leader. He knew because no one outside the Wall liked Master Roman. Sure, he wasn’t the kindest to the Unwanted, but that wasn’t really his fault. The Unwanted were just unlikable by nature. Except for Virgil and sometimes Logan. But there were always excepts to the rules.

As he passed through the barrier, he landed hard on the wall, nearly twisting his ankle. He couldn’t be flying distracted, even if there was so much to think about just from that short visit. Virgil  _must_  have been mistaken though. There was no way Master Roman was so cruel as to mutilate a kid. There was just no way. It wasn’t in him.

Patton thought back to the sad look Virgil had given him as he Patton what had happened and when he rushed out of their home. The resigned look of someone who had dealt with pain and anger and was used to it.

Maybe… Maybe there was some truth to his story.

No, no! That couldn’t be. He owed everything to Master Roman. For his wonderful life and his good job and a home that didn’t lean or leak in bad weather. He had saved him from being an Unwanted. Saved him from that dreadful life. There was no way he could be a murderer let alone a child mutilater.

With two quick steps he launched himself from the wall, flying over the city once more. He couldn’t go back to quickly or else he’d have to face Master Roman’s anger, but he could hover around the city for a bit before returning.

As he flew over the city, admiring the want the gold glittered and the silver shined, he noticed something odd. People were generally everywhere this time of day. It was prime shopping time, the sun was in just the right position to provide enough shade to relax in outside, and there were always people outside practicing their magick. But right now, there was no one enjoying the shops or parks. There were just rows and rows of people on the main street in dirty clothes moving slowly.

He dropped to some of the lower building, peaking over the edge as quietly as possible without getting caught. Squinting, he looked over their face and then, with a gasp, pulled his head back over the edge. They were soldiers dressed as the ones he’d seen outside the Wall had been, imitating the clothes of the Unwanted.

No, no, no. this could have been. The Unwanted were a nuisance at best, taking up space that could be used for agriculture. But to send an army in disguise out…

 _This was Dee’s doing_ , he thought to himself. There was no way Master Roman would approve of such an underhanded tactic. It  _had_  to be him.

With his ankle still soar, ended up tripping over the edge, careening toward the group, but righted himself in time to land gently in front of Dee. He was heading the line toward the northern gate, sitting in a tent and going over some papers.

“A pleasure to see you as always,” Dee said before Patton could get a word out. “While I love your never-ending optimism and cheerful little notes, but I don’t have time.”

“What is this, exactly?”

Dee glanced up at Patton, smirking at his slightly haggard appearance. “Been crying recently? What over this time? Saw puppies that were too cute?”

Patton quickly wiped off his face. He hadn’t even realized he’d started crying. “No. Just… Just tell me what this is? If you did this without Master’s permission—”

Dee laughed; his head tilted back. “Without his permission? My dear Patton, I may not be as close to him as you are, but I am all about self-preservation.” At Patton’s blank look, he sat up in his chair, perusing the papers again. “No, Patton. He knows very well what I’m doing because he ordered me to do so. Of course, there’s no reason you shouldn’t know. Leo! Tell the next group to leave.”

“Why? What have the Unwanted done now?”

“What have they done? Nothing. They exist still, I guess. What’s it to you?”

“Nothing.” Patton turned on heel to leave, the new information whirling around in his head. It just didn’t make sense. For the longest time Master Roman had expressed no interest in it. He said that there was no way to use the people, so he couldn’t truly be bothered by them. That was what he had said whenever Patton came back from his visits. He only sent him over there to make sure there was no plans of breaking down the Wall. And for as long as he had been going, there had been none. Virgil wouldn’t have given him an explicit warning, but he would have done something to let Patton know—and he never had. They weren’t content to live the way they did, there was just nothing they could really do to change it.

Patton took to the skies again, suddenly conflicted about which way to go. For the first time, he wasn’t sure he wanted to go back to the Tower. For his entire life, he had never really questioned what Master Roman asked him to do and everything he did always felt so harmless. Check on the Unwanted. Give the army this tech. Take these shoes and keep an eye on the citizens. It never felt like what he knew it was now: espionage.

As much as it pained him, he knew what he needed to do. He flew back across the border, sneaking as quietly as he could manage. He couldn’t risk Dee seeing him on the Command side or the soldiers on the Unwanted side.

Quietly, he worked his way through the field, picking out Virgil and Logan’s house out of habit. He opened the front door closing it quickly behind him, only to feel a hand around his throat. His eyes barely had time to adjust to the change in lighting, but he knew it was Logan.

“You have some nerve showing your face here.”

“I—” Patton gasped, looking around the room, surprised to see more than Virgil. A few people he recognized from his fly-bys over the place and some he’d never seen before. “I know. I c-came to warn you.”

“About the army? Because we know.”

“N-No. There’s—” He tried to gasp again, but his vision was going dark, black blossoms blooming in his eyes.

He heard a clap and then suddenly Logan’s grip got tighter, then was gone. He crumpled to the ground, wheezing. Virgil appeared in front of him, a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Why did you come here?”

“There’s—” Patton let out a deep sigh. “There’s hundreds of them. Dee is letting them in, in small groups. Magick users, regular soldiers, and both.” At that he heard a few gasps around the room. “Dee is a highly trained tactician and he’s leading them. I’m sure he gave them instructions before sending them over, but I don’t know what it is.”

Virgil lifted Patton’s head up, gazing at his neck before sighing. “Why are you telling us this? You know that we won’t sit by while they attack.”

“I know. I’m—I don’t know. I guess I was hoping that warning you would help somehow?”

“Do you think this can make up for what you’ve done to help them?” Logan’s voice was full of venom as he spoke.

Patton looked up at Logan before casting his eyes down again. “No, I don’t. But I want to help. I want to be able to make up for my mistakes. I didn’t know that he was planning this.”

“Didn’t know or didn’t want to know?” Another person spoke up from the back. Patton vaguely recognized him as one of the few Unwanted who looked clean. His name-tag read Emile Picani.

“I didn’t want to.” Patton shifted folding his legs underneath making sure to keep his hands visible. “I never stopped to question all of the things I did. Or all of the terrible things I’d seen. I brushed them off, forcing myself to think that they were necessary. But they weren’t. Your trauma wasn’t necessary, Virgil. The constant policing of the people isn’t necessary, here and the Command. The aggression and wanton abuse everyone here feels and experiences everyday isn’t necessary. I never stopped to ask  **am I the villain**  because I was never made to feel that way.”

There was silence as he glanced around but Virgil was smiling. He was the only one, in fact, as he stood and held out his hand. Slowly, Patton took it, allowing himself to be hoisted from the ground.

Virgil didn’t let go as he signed, “Do you swear on your life you will help our cause? To help us in our mission and to do everything in your power, no matter the consequences?”

Patton couldn’t be sure if he would. Even though his view of Master Roman had changed, there was still a part of him that wanted desperately for what he learned to be a lie. He shook himself mentally. He had to do this—if only to make up for all the things that he had let happen.

“I swear.” As the words passed through his lips, he felt something burning on his on his skin, like words being cut deep with a knife. When Virgil pulled his hand away, a feather in beautiful rainbow colors was iridescently shining on his arm. It was beautiful.

In his head, a voice he’d never heard before said, “Welcome to the resistance, Patton.” Virgil was smirking, but unlike every time before, he could tell there was true joy and playfulness behind it—and it was then he knew the voice belonged to Virgil. “Welcome to the resistance.”


End file.
